


Shades of Memory

by drabbleswabbles



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:31:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drabbleswabbles/pseuds/drabbleswabbles
Summary: Falling in love with his best friend and roommate is one of the most inconvenient things to happen to Dorian since moving to Ferelden. So when a car accident leaves Aiden convinced he's his boyfriend, it makes things more than a little complicated.





	1. The Accidental Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Two important things: (1) at some point I saw a prompt somewhere, forgot about it, then some time later this story happened. So if anyone has any idea as to the original prompt, let me know and I will give it credit. Fair warning though that the prompt had additional pieces that may not have ended up in this story so I'm not sure if it can really be considered a fill. (2) If you're looking for realistic depictions of any things medical- this might not be the AU for you.

               In the movies, there was always a lot of noise. Urgent announcements buzzed in the background, papers rustled against clipboards, shoes squeaked against linoleum, and the machines beeped. Dorian wasn’t sure whether he was disappointed or relieved to discover that real life wasn’t like the movies. He sat in an uncomfortable chair and watched Aiden breathe. There wasn’t anything to distract him from the sight of the horrible hospital gown, the cast on Aiden’s arm, or the bruises and scrapes on his face. He leaned forward and cradled Aiden’s hand in his own, the one that wasn’t in a cast. It felt warm. He closed his eyes and focused on that.

_Wake up. Wake up, Aiden. You have to wake up._

               He was so tired. Tired of the hospital chair. Tired of begging Aiden to wake up. Tired of listening to the doctors tell him over and over that there wasn’t anything more they could do except wait. Tired of answering calls from their circle of friends. He was tired of knowing that all of it was his fault.

 

***

               Dorian wandered into the living room and flipped through the pile of mail on the coffee table even though he’d already looked through it three times and knew it was all junk. Aiden was on the couch, his feet propped up on the table, reading the second volume of _Hard in Hightown._ He still remembered the palpable disappointment of discovering that the title was by far the most salacious part of an otherwise dull and poorly written mystery series. He looked at the delivery menu for their favorite Antivan restaurant even though he knew it by heart.   

               Aiden lowered his book. “Hungry?”

               “No. I’m fine.” He hadn’t been able to touch the enormous slice of lasagna Aiden had set aside for him.

               Aiden yawned, the picture of sleepy contentment. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

               He wanted to say yes, to turn off the lights and curl up on the couch. To enjoy being close enough to Aiden that he could feel the warmth radiating from his body. To spend the night imagining that at any moment they’d forget whatever they were watching in favor of making out like love-struck teenagers. Which was exactly why he had to say it now.

               “I’m moving out.”

               “You’re what?”

               “Don’t play dumb. You heard me. I’m moving out.”

               “What do you mean you’re moving out?” Aiden stared at him as if he’d professed his intention to become a reindeer.

               “I realize that my intelligence and wit makes it hard to believe, but this is not an elaborate metaphor. I’m moving out. Finding a new place of residence. A new abode.”

               “But why?”

               “Because.” Dorian looked away. _Because, I can’t do this anymore. Because, I can’t spend my whole life longing for things that can never be. Because, if I stay I’ll ruin what we have. Because I want more._

               “Because what? What did I do?”

               “Not everything is about you!”

               “What’s that supposed to mean?”

               “I’ve made up my mind.” He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Anything to keep his hands busy and to look away from Aiden.

               “Dorian.” Aiden followed him. “What’s going on? Come on, don’t shut me out. Is it something I did? Did Thom say something stupid again?”

               “This is exactly why I need to move out. You’re everywhere! I need some space!”

               “We could find a bigger place…”

               “I prefer men! Alright?” It burst out of him against his will. He set his glass down on the counter so hard that water splashed out of it. They’d never talked about it. When he’d moved in they’d been strangers. There’d been no reason to bring it up. Then suddenly they were inseparable and it felt too late to mention it. It wasn’t a secret. Not exactly. Aiden had to know. He had to. It was obvious to everyone else.

               “Men?” If they were in a cartoon Aiden’s jaw would have hit the floor. But this wasn’t a cartoon. It was his life.

               “Yes. Men. As in for sex! Surely you’ve heard of it!” His voice bordered on the hysterical. A wild mixture of fear, vulnerability, and hope flooded him. He knew this feeling. He despised it. He knew who he was. He didn’t need anyone’s approval.

               “I-Of course I’ve heard of it.”

               “Good. I’d hate to have to send you links.” He crossed his arms as if they might protect him from whatever might come next. From Aiden. Sweet, kind Aiden. His best friend. Yet he couldn’t help the twinge of fear that this truth about himself might turn him into a cruel stranger. That it might ruin everything they had. Even if what they had wasn’t enough.

               “But- You met someone?”

               “What? No.”

               “Then what’s this got to do with-“

               “Your friends are always judging me. I’m sick of it.” It wasn’t true. Aiden’s friends had accepted him into the group as if he’d always been a part of it. But he had to do something drastic before Aiden figured out the real reason he had to move out. Nothing upset Aiden like someone going after his friends. Dorian would never live down the embarrassment of the truth about his feelings coming out into the open. Falling in love with your best friend. It was the worst kind of cliché.

               “Judging you?” There was a trace of anger in Aiden’s question. “Is that what you think?”

               “All your friends are idiots and meatheads! Thom, Alistair, Krem. That oaf who calls himself The Iron Bull. You think I can be myself around them?”

               Aiden scowled and marched out of the kitchen.

               “Where are you going?” It was Dorian’s turn to follow.

               “Out.” Aiden shoved his arms into his jacket and zipped it violently. Dorian had bought it for him just a week ago even though it wasn’t the holidays and they’d already celebrated Aiden’s birthday three months ago. It had cost him a whole paycheck and it had been worth every penny to see the look on Aiden’s face when he opened the box.

                “Out where?”

               Aiden slammed the door shut behind him so hard that the dishes on the drying rack in the kitchen trembled.

***

               Dorian jerked awake.

               “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Cullen raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “How is he?”

               “No change.” The words scraped against his dry throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a drink of anything. When he’d been waiting for Aiden to come out of the surgery for the injury to his arm? No. He hadn’t thought to bring any change for the lone working vending machine. At home then. When they’d been arguing.

               “And you? How are you doing?”

               “Marvelous.” Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away impatiently. There was no reason to cry. Aiden would be fine. “Simply marvelous. Having the time of my life.”

               Cullen shuffled closer and put a hand on his shoulder as if he intended to pat him and at the last second changed his mind and decided to squeeze instead. “Come on. Let’s go down to the cafeteria. Have a cup of terrible coffee.”

               “He could wake up any minute.”

               “Come on. You’ll need your strength for when he wakes up. He wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”

               That was debatable. If it wasn’t for him and his stupid feelings Aiden wouldn’t have stormed out of the apartment. He wouldn’t have been upset and distracted. He wouldn’t have walked into the street on a red light. He wouldn’t have been hit by a car. He’d be walking through the doors of their apartment wearing a stained t-shirt and worn jeans after a long day at work.

               “Let’s go.”

               He knew that if he didn’t, Cullen would find another chair and sit next to him in supportive silence for hours. It would be awkward and unfair. He followed Cullen through the crowded hallways. Everything was too bright and too loud. They stepped into an elevator. Someone made a joke. Someone else laughed. He resisted the urge to punch them both.

               Downstairs they sat down at a sticky table that reminded him of his high school cafeteria and drank their coffee. He’d scalded his tongue on the first sip so he couldn’t taste much. It wasn’t half bad.

               “He’s going to be fine. The doctors here are great. They saved my life.”

               Dorian nodded. Before they’d met, Cullen had spent a few weeks in recovery after a lyrium overdose. Just thinking about it made him nauseous. If things had gone differently he might have never met the quiet man who’d unexpectedly become one of his best friends.

               “You were here all night?"

               “Yeah.”

               “And they let you stay? Past visiting hours?”

               He broke off a piece of the pound cake Cullen had insisted on buying him then broke it into two smaller pieces. “I-err- I might have told them that we live together and that I’m his boyfriend.”

               Cullen tried valiantly not to choke on his coffee and failed.

               “Don’t give me that look. Half of it is true. He needs me here.”

               “That is-” Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t need to tell you that this isn’t healthy, right?”

               Dorian ate a couple of cake crumbs to avoid answering. They were good friends, but they didn’t really talk much about this sort of thing. In fact, it had only been with the help of a bottle of wine that he’d even admitted to Cullen the real reason he’d began a frantic search for an apartment he could afford on his own.

               “Look… I know this guy.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “He’s handsome. Or well, I think he’s handsome. Bookish. Anyway, he’s single. I could give him your number.”

               If an earthquake struck the hospital and buried him under a pile of rubble, he wouldn’t have complained. Things had actually gotten so bad that Cullen was trying to set him up on blind dates. If Sera ever heard about this she’d never let him live it down. That and she’d tell him again to ask out the guy with the tattoos who played in a band at his favorite bar.

               “I really should get back.” Dorian gathered up the mess of crumbs with a couple napkins.

               Cullen gave him what could only be described as puppy dog eyes.  

               “I’ll think about it.”


	2. Snoring Spirit

               Everything hurt. Aiden opened his eyes and blinked several times trying to focus his vision. The lights were too bright and he was thirsty. It felt like the worst hangover of his life. He tried to sit up, but found that he couldn’t. He looked around. The walls were painted a horrible sickly green. Machines surrounded his bed.  A hospital then, not the couch in Krem’s apartment. Someone was holding his hand. A very handsome someone. From what he remembered, hospitals didn’t provide complimentary handsome strangers for hand holding. Then again, his memory wasn’t working all that well. For one, he couldn’t remember how he’d ended up in this room.

_Maybe I’m dead and he’s the spirit come to take me to the other side._

               The spirit had slumped forward in the chair next to his bed, head resting right next to his hand. Its chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of slumber. The spirit snored.

_Do spirit snore?_

               He considered asking, but couldn’t bring himself to wake it. Soon enough the spirit or the man, there was still a chance it was just a sleepy man, would wake up or someone else would come to explain everything to him. He closed his eyes again and focused on the warm hands cradling one of his own.  When he opened his eyes again, the spirit was gone. A woman in a lab coat looked down at him.

               “Welcome back Aiden. I’m Dr. Wynne. Do you know where you are?”

               “A hospital?”

               “That’s right. You’re at Crestwood Hospital. You were in a car accident.”

               That would explain why he felt like a truck had run him over twice. He looked back at the empty chair. “There was a- A man?“

               Dr. Wynne smiled. “You needn’t worry. Crestwood welcomes all partners. I’m sure your boyfriend will be back any minute. He hasn’t left your side since you were moved out of surgery.”

               His boyfriend? He didn’t remember having a boyfriend. It seemed like the sort of thing he should remember. It wasn’t like forgetting to pick up milk on the way back from work. Then again, he’d been in a car accident. He just needed a moment to remember. Maybe when he saw him again it would all come back to him.

               “Can you sit up and follow the light for me, Aiden?”

               He did. He followed the light and let her poke and prod him without complaint. He felt as if he hadn’t slept in days, but he didn’t close his eyes. His boyfriend would be back soon. He had to be awake when he came back so that he could remember.

               “Aiden…”

               He looked at the man frozen in the doorway. It was the spirit. No, not the spirit. His boyfriend. His voice sounded so familiar and yet he found that he couldn’t remember a thing about him. He smiled back anyway. “Hi.”

               “You’re awake!” The man rushed to his side. “Doctor, how is he- Is he-“

               Dr. Wynne raised her hand to cut him off. “Dorian. Take a breath. We’re running some tests. For now, I’m going to give you two some privacy. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Try not to tire him out.”

               _Dorian. That sounds right._ Without a doubt he’d made an idiot out of himself several times before gathering the courage to ask out anyone so handsome. At the very least he could be grateful that he couldn’t remember that either. Dorian hoovered by his bed, just out of his reach, pale and anxious. _I should kiss him. If I kiss him, maybe my memory will come back._ The rational part of him knew this line of thinking was absurd, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

               “Come here.” He beckoned as best he could with his bruised hand.

               Dorian shuffled closer.

               Aiden put a hand on his arm and tugged him even closer. Dorian followed willingly, wrapping his arms around him. It was the most uncomfortable and most wonderful hug he could remember. Although surely, they’d had better. Dorian smelled of sweat, coffee and inexplicably of home. He squeezed back with his good arm. He wondered if they lived together. It had to be serious between them if the hospital had let him stay at his side even after visiting hours ended.

               “You scared the shit out of me,” Dorian said as he started to pull away.

               Aiden let him get just far enough away that he could kiss him. Dorian’s lips were chapped and he could feel the slight prickle of his moustache. It was the worst kiss he’d ever given anyone. Or at least he hoped it was. His lips felt clumsy and dry. Worst of all, it wasn’t returned.

               Instead, Dorian jerked away. “What the- What do you think you’re doing?”

               “Is my breath that bad?” Aiden realized that it had to be. He didn’t remember the last time he’d brushed his teeth. “Sorry. I thought a kiss might make it all better.”

               “Ha-ha.” Dorian scowled. “Cut it out Aiden. It’s not funny.”

               “Sorry.” He tried not to seem too dejected. Just a couple more minutes. Maybe if they talked for a couple of minutes it would all come back to him. Had they been arguing before he’d been in the car accident, was Dorian still angry with him?

               “Do you know how worried I’ve been? Everyone keeps calling me and asking about you. Sera texted me that she’ll bring over a fruit basket. A fruit basket, Aiden!”

               _Doesn’t like fruit baskets. Strange. I thought everyone liked those._ He stored this bit of knowledge away for later. “Dorian, I’m fine.”

               “Your arm’s broken.”

               “Not the first time.” He’d fallen out of a tree as a kid then made every person he could find sign his cast.

               Dorian looked as if he might argue then sat down in the chair next to his bed. “It’s all my fault.”

               “You ran me over?”

               “Aiden, please just be serious for a moment and let me apologize. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

               “Consider it all forgotten.”

               “Thank you.” Dorian smiled before his expression fell. “You don’t mean…Not all of it I hope? That’s not how I wanted to tell you. Honestly, I thought you knew.”

               “Right. Yeah, sure.” He had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. If he could get Dorian to leave then maybe the doctor could fix this before he had to admit to his boyfriend that he couldn't even remember meeting him. “Maybe you should go home and get some rest? I think they might be keeping me here for a while.” He could tell from Dorian’s wounded expression that it was the wrong thing to say. _Good job, Aiden. You’ve only been talking to him for a few minutes and you’ve already hurt his feelings._ He reached out to take Dorian’s hand. “I know you sat here for hours holding my hand. You’re officially the world’s best boyfriend. You deserve some rest in a proper bed.”

               “Boyfriend?”

               Aiden smiled hesitantly. _Shit._ What was he forgetting? He only knew that he could feel the connection between them even if he didn’t remember the details of how it had developed. “You mean- Did I- Or you- Are we engaged?”

               “Engaged?”

               Aiden groaned. “I proposed didn’t I? Did you say no? Tell me you didn't say no.”

               “No- I mean- You didn’t propose. What? Aiden, we’re roommates.”

               He blinked sure that he’d misheard. _Roommates?_ Krem had been his roommate for three years. They’d grown to be close friends, but he’d never felt such a visceral connection to him.

               “Roommates?” They said- That doctor, she said you were my boyfriend.”

               “I only told her that so she’d let me stay with you.”

               “Oh.” This was awkward.

               Dorian pulled his hand away. “If this is a joke, then it’s not funny. Don’t you know who I am?”

               “No.” He tried to look as apologetic as he could. “I’m sorry. You seem familiar, but I just- I don’t remember.” 

               “Kaffas.” Dorian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you say anything? We have to get the doctor.”

               “You feel really familiar. I thought it was all going to come back to me if we talked for a little while.”

               “Of course you did.” Dorian sounded resigned. “I’ll go get Dr. Wynne.”

               “Aren’t you going to get in trouble?”

               Dorian rolled his eyes. “Oh yes. How silly of me. Your memory loss is much less important than the scolding they’re going to give me.”

               “You don’t have to tell them.”

               “I have to tell them. Aiden, you could have brain damage.”

               “No. I mean you don’t have to tell them that we’re not dating. They don’t have to know the details.”

               “Fine.” Dorian shook his head. “But this is insane.”

               He nodded and didn’t point out that Dorian had been the one to come up with the story in the first place.

 

***

               It felt like an eternity before he was able to come back to his room with all of his tests completed. Dorian was waiting for him when they wheeled him back into the room, even though he’d insisted once again that he go home and get some rest. Aiden had an endless amount of questions he wanted to ask him. But they were both exhausted so instead he sat in bed and ate his rubbery dinner.

               “Is it as bad as it looks?”

               He swallowed a piece of so called chicken. “Worse. It’s tastes like a piece of old tire.”

               “I meant your arm.”

               “Oh, that.” He waved Dorian’s concern away with his other hand. “The chicken is much worse than that. Not the first time I’ve broken it either. Fell out of a tree as a kid.”

               “So you remember that?”

               He nodded. “I remember that. And I remember my apartment. At least, I think I do. And I remember that I was looking for a roommate. But I don’t remember meeting you. How long have we been living together?”

               “A little over a year.”

               Aiden pushed away his dinner and turned his attention to the television playing in the background. Or more accurately he stared at the screen. The show was the sort of thing he’d enjoy if he had the energy to follow the plot. There was a woman with a glowing hand who ran around hacking and slashing demons with her sword. Except he couldn’t focus on it because he kept thinking about how certain he’d been that Dorian and him were dating. It wasn’t exactly a memory. Just a feeling.

               “So, we’ve never...?”

               Dorian startled, as if he’d been dozing off. “Never what?”

               “You know…” He’d really underestimated how awkward it would be to have this discussion with someone his memory was telling him he’d met only a couple of hours ago. “Fooled around?”

               “No. Of course not. No. We haven’t,” Dorian sputtered. “Aiden, you’re straight.”

               He didn’t feel particularly straight. He had some very vivid memories of enthusiastically engaging in some very not straight activities with a man by the name of Zevran. On more than one occasion. Zevran. It was a weird name. Had he lost his mind in the accident? Was this something that happened because of head injuries? Did people wake up with complete sets of memories of lovers they’d never had?

               “I… Are you sure?”

               “Yes, I’m sure. You had a girlfriend! Don’t you remember Cass?”

               He did remember her. They’d been together for a long time. It hadn’t worked out. She’d gotten an offer for her dream job and moved to the other end of the country for it. They’d tried to make it work long distance for a while, but in the end they’d wished each other the best and broken it off. There’d always been something about them that hadn’t worked.

               “Good news!” Dr. Wynne walked into the room without warning. “Your scans look clear. As far as we can see, your brain is in perfect shape.”

               “Then why can’t I remember?”

               “It happens sometimes,” Dr. Wynne said. “A sudden shock to the system. It’s likely that you will recover most of your memories in time.”

               “Likely?”

               “I can refer you to a therapist. There are things you can do. Pictures might help. Or videos, if you have any. It’s not an exact science.”

               “Right.” He tried to focus on the bright side. His brain wasn’t injured. He was healthy. True, it sounded like he’d lost over a year of memories, but who was to say he even wanted those memories back? He’d make new memories.

               “Do you have any questions?”

               _So many._ “No. I’d like some time alone, if that's alright?”

               Dr. Wynne nodded. “Of course. You should try and get some sleep. Dorian, if you could follow me there’s some paperwork I wanted you to look at.”


	3. All the Numbers

               Dorian followed Dr. Wynne into the hallway. His arms felt heavy and strange at his sides, foreign weights latching onto his torso. Aiden didn’t remember him. His best friend didn’t remember meeting him or anything about their friendship. He’d had to explain to the man he’d inconveniently fallen in love with that they were neither engaged, nor hooking up. One time he'd had a dream almost like this. He'd come home after a long day at work and they were a couple, just like that. Aiden was in the kitchen and he'd greeted him the kind of distracted kiss you gave to someone you'd kissed a thousand times, someone you expected to kiss again so many times that there was no need to savor every single one. It was embarrassing how many nights he'd spent trying to force his brain into letting him have the same dream.  _You could have lied. You could have everything you've wanted._ It was, of course, a ridiculous thought. He'd never be able to take advantage of Aiden like that, or anyone else for that matter.

               “How are you feeling?” Dr. Wynne asked.

               “Me?” He didn’t feel anything. “I’m fine. I’m not the one who got hit by a car.”

               “No. But I imagine you feel a bit like it.” She shoved a stack of pamphlets in his hands. “I want you to read through these. We have a support group for caregivers here at the hospital. I encourage you to attend.”

               He accepted the colorful brochures and flipped through them. They reminded him of the pamphlets for dull attractions that Aiden loved to collect at highway rest stops. “He’s only got a broken arm. He’ll be up and about in no time.”

               “Your boyfriend doesn’t remember meeting you.” Dr. Wynne said in a tone that he had no doubt was intended to be comforting. “There’s no telling when and if his memories are going to come back. If they do, there’s no predicting how it might affect him. This is the kind of thing that can take a toll on the strongest relationship. You’re going to need support. Do you have any family in the area?”

               “I’ll be fine.” The very last thing he needed right now was his family showing up. “Thanks for these. I’ll take a look.”

               Dr. Wynne sighed and gave him a stern look. “I’m going to keep him overnight, just in case. I’ll discharge him in the morning. Go home and get some sleep. You can come back tomorrow to take him home. Don’t forget to bring him some clothes. I’m afraid the ones he came in with aren’t in any state to be worn.”

               “Right. Clothes. Can I go back and say goodnight?”

               “Of course.” She tapped the pamphlets. “Think about it.”

               He went back into the room. Aiden had fallen asleep with the remote in his hand as if he were back at home on the couch. Dorian slipped the remote out of his hand and turned off the television. Allowing himself a final indulgence, he righted the blanket that had slipped to the edge of the hospital bed.

               By the time he made his way across the parking lot and into his car, the chill from the wind had gotten into his bones. He shoved the pamphlets into the glove compartment and slammed it shut. He rubbed his hands together and started the car. The heater rattled in protest. He smacked it, daring it to stop working tonight of all nights. The glove compartment sprang back open spilling pamphlets over the floor of the car.

               “Kaffas!”

               He rested his head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes for a moment. He could do this. He had to do this. If their places were swapped, Aiden would do the same for him. Cleaning up the pamphlets, first. Getting home, second. Sleeping, third. Finding clothes for Aiden, fourth. Picking Aiden up in the morning, fifth. After that, figuring out six… and all other numbers.

***

 

               Dorian finished his cup of coffee and hesitated at the door to Aiden’s bedroom. He’d never been inside and this certainly wasn’t how he imagined the circumstances leading him to go inside for the first time. He opened the door, flicked on the lights, and looked around. A large bed covered in a green quilt took up most of the room. There was a night table with an old fashioned alarm clock, a bookshelf stuffed with bad detective novels, an armoire, and two closet doors. He looked around the room again. There was nothing here. Nothing that would remind Aiden of the person he’d been. Not a poster on the wall. Not a collection of the kinds of knickknacks most people accumulated over a lifetime.  _Anyone_ might live here.

               He pulled out his phone and frantically scrolled through his pictures. Why hadn’t he taken any photos of all the ordinary, everyday things that they’d done together? Besides his name on the lease there was hardly a thing he could show Aiden to prove that they’d lived together for over a year. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and shook his head. There was no changing it now.

               In the closet he found a simple black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Feeling awkward, he went over to the armoire and opened up the top drawer to grab the first pair of boxers in sight. He opened the second drawer in search of a pair of socks and found himself starting into what could only be described as a sex drawer. He shoved it closed with a groan. Of course, because this wasn’t awkward enough. Truth be told, Aiden had never struck him as the sex drawer type. As far as he knew, since he'd moved in, Aiden hadn’t brought anyone back to the apartment. Cautiously he opened up the third drawer and to his relief discovered only socks. He grabbed a pair, shoved the clothes along with a pair of sneakers in a backpack, and made his way over to the hospital trying his best not to think about why anyone might need so many kinds of lube.

               The discharge process didn’t match the gravity of the situation at all. A few final words of advice, a stack of forms to sign, and then they were outside the hospital. Aiden grimaced at the chilly wind as he followed him to the car.

               “Sorry. They said your jacket got messed up in the accident. I’d give you one of mine, but-“ He waved vaguely between Aiden’s broad shoulders and himself.

               Aiden laughed. “Point taken. One ripped up jacket is enough.”

               He opened the car door for Aiden and waited for him to clamber in before closing the door after him. Once he got inside and started the car he waited patiently as Aiden fumbled with his seatbelt. Aiden hated anyone fussing over him. The heater rattled in the background. After a few more moments of struggling Aiden flopped back into the seat.

                    “You want some help?”

                    “I thought you’d never ask.”

                    “Sorry,” Dorian said sheepishly as he leaned over and buckled him in. “I know you like to do things for yourself.”

                    “So I’m the stubborn and silent type?”

                    “I wouldn’t call you silent.”

                    “Stubborn and chatty. I must make a great roommate.”

                    “You’re not so bad.” Dorian cleared his throat. “Ready to go?”

                    “Yeah.”

                    They drove for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence. It didn’t feel any different from the drives they might take to the grocery store or for a weekend trip. Any minute now Aiden would turn on the radio and sing along to whatever was playing, intentionally off-key and with half made up lyrics.

                    “So, how did we meet?”

                    Dorian tried not to feel disappointed at the shattering of any illusion of normalcy. “Are we supposed to be doing this? What did the doctors say?”

                    “They told me to take it easy and go back to my regular routine as much as possible. I might need some help with that…that is if you know my routine. We are close, aren’t we?”

                    “We’ve lived together for over a year,” he said evasively. _You’re my best friend._ His insides squirmed at the thought of admitting it aloud. Aiden had a lot of friends. Even before he would’ve never had the courage to say something like that out loud. If that sentiment wasn’t returned he’d rather not know.

                    “Shit. A year of my life, gone. Just like that.” Aiden sighed. “I’m sorry about all this. I’d understand if you want to move out and live with someone who isn’t going to ask you a million questions every day.”

                    “It’s not that. It’s just, what if the way I remember things isn’t the way you remembered them?” Dorian asked. “It’ll be like I’m giving you false memories.” Recreating their entire friendship. Bringing back the Aiden he had known. He hadn’t allowed himself to think much about the responsibility of it. He wasn’t equipped for the kind of heartfelt conversations that might require.

                    “How could you possibly remember meeting me differently. Unless… you didn’t stalk me beforehand, did you?” Aiden grinned.

                    Dorian couldn’t help but huff with laughter. “Very well then. We met because you were putting up fliers on campus looking for a roommate. I scolded you for putting up unauthorized advertising on the corkboard outside of the history department’s office.”

                    “You’re a professor at Redcliffe University?”

                    “Hardly. They let me teach a course on Tevene History. I fund my lavish lifestyle by toiling at Vivienne’s Nook and averting fashion disasters.” It was embarrassing. Dorian Pavus, son of a magister, folding shirts and charming rich people into buying another pair of jeans in hopes of a better commission. His father would die of shame if he ever found out.

                    “I can see that. You spent a night in a hospital chair and I still thought you were a spirit come to take me to the other side.”

                    “Don’t be ridiculous.” The last time he’d blushed so furiously was when a stranger at a bar had explained rimming to him. The heater came to his rescue with a final death rattle. Dorian smacked it a little harder than necessary.

                    “Don’t take this the wrong way, but your car is a piece of junk.”           

                    He couldn’t argue with that description. Some days he suspected that a powerful sneeze might send it flying apart. But even if he could afford to replace it, he didn’t want to. Once upon a time, when he’d first come to the south, he’d spent a couple weeks living in it. Against all odds, they’d survived their time in the south together. He wasn't ready to part with it. It was his one indulgence in an open display of sappiness, sentimentality, and not to mention impracitcality. 

                    “If you bring it by the shop I’ll see what I can do,” Aiden offered. “I still work at the shop, right? With Krem?”

                    “You still work at the shop.”

                    “Thank the Maker. I had this horrible thought that maybe I’d taken up a new profession and I’d have to learn it all over again. Which leads me to another thought. Maybe we can have a get together? Have some friends over?”

                    “You just got out of the hospital. Are sure it’s a good idea to be throwing a party?”

                    “My drinking arm still works," Aiden joked. "But seriously, I think it would be good for me. They can help me fill in some of the blanks. It’s not fair to put all of this on you. I’m going to need other people to help me through this.”

                    _And who’s going to help me through this?_ He didn’t allow himself to wallow in self-pity for long. There would be plenty of time for that later. “Sure. We’ll invite everyone. We can make a list when we get home.”

                    “Finally, something I remember,” Aiden said as they pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex. “Home, sweet home.”

                    Dorian forced himself to smile. _Home._ He’d thought he’d found it here in this apartment, but now sitting inside the freezing cold car and thinking of the never-ending staircase that lead to the top floor, he realized he’d never much cared for it. It was Aiden who’d made if feel like home, more like home than any place he’d lived since childhood.


	4. Pictures, Pictures

               By the flicker of the television he could see Dorian smiling slightly, no doubt amused by some turn of phrase in Tevene. Aiden had given up on trying to read the subtitles to the complex political drama some time ago. He could never keep up with who had power and which of the magisters were sleeping with each other. As long as Dorian enjoyed it, he was content. Well, almost content. He yawned loudly and slipped an arm around Dorian who snorted with amusement.

               “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

               “What am I doing?” He pressed himself closer to Dorian. He smelled of sandalwood.

               “Distracting me, again. Hands to yourself. I’ve been dying to know how this one ends.”

               He sighed dramatically. Dorian rolled his eyes and kissed him, barely a press of lips against his cheek before turning back to the television.

               Aiden jolted up in bed and ran a hand over his face to wipe away the ghost of Dorian’s lips. Vivid dreams had plagued him since childhood. For years he’d had a recurring nightmare in which he walked along the edge of a cliff, admiring the view before the ground beneath him gave in. He tumbled down as dust choked him and shards of rubble bit through his clothes to tear his skin. At the bottom he could see nothing but darkness broken by tinges of ominous green light. He’d wake with a dry throat and unable to resist childishly searching his body for any traces of cuts.

               Pleasant as this dream might have been he hoped it wouldn’t return. It wouldn’t help him to recover his memories if his mind wove reality and wishful thinking together. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and flipped open his laptop. He’d been looking through photographs on it last night. Thanks to Dorian’s diligent documentation he now had a fairly good idea of every meal he’d ever prepared in the past year. Apparently, he'd developed a love of lasagna. Giving up the shared folder as a bad job, he opened up his own photo album. As he’d suspected, although his phone hadn’t survived, the pictures had.  _Thank you, magic of cloud technology._

               He clicked through them. Dorian startled in the doorway of their apartment. Dorian laughing with a drink in his hand. Dorian blowing out the candles on an enormous birthday cake, a ridiculous sparkling party hat hoovering above his head, curtesy of Sera. Dorian opening a box of hand knitted socks. Dorian posing in a pair of leather pants that by all laws of fashion had no right to look good, but somehow looked fantastic. Dorian bleary eyed and grumpy, scowling at the camera with a piece of toast in his hand. Dorian at the kitchen table surrounded by piles of papers and books. Dorian’s hair peeking out from under piles of blankets on the sofa.

               And pictures of them together. Sitting next to each other in a restaurant booth with plates of grilled seafood in front of them. On the couch, with a bowl of popcorn between them. Standing on a boardwalk at the beach with cones of shaved ice. On a boat, squinting at the bright sunlight.

               It had been his belated birthday celebration, he remembered. They’d gone on a dolphin watching cruise and Dorian had neglected to mention his tendency toward seasickness. They’d spent most of the trip at the other end of the boat from the rest of the passengers, Dorian dry heaving and Aiden trying unsuccessfully to coax him into sipping the overpriced ginger tea he’d purchased from the tiny store below deck.

               None of it made any sense. He replayed the memory over again in his mind hoping it would lead him to another one. It didn’t. He wasn’t a detective, but his extensive reading of the mystery genre had to count for something. If he were a private eye and someone came into his office with all these picture, he would have called the case closed. An affair. A romance. Something of that sort. People didn’t take this many pictures of their roommates. Did they? Even if they were friends? Or was it merely his wishful thinking? Had there been feelings on his part that he’d kept secret from Dorian? Or perhaps they had been painfully obvious and completely unrequited?

               He resolved to spend the rest of the day hiding in his room with a detective novel in hand. Every time he saw Dorian, he wanted to ask a million questions. It was sure to slowly drive Dorian insane. The last thing he wanted to do was to make things more uncomfortable than he’d made them at the hospital. It had to be awkward for Dorian to discover his roommate’s sudden certainty that they were romantically involved.

               _Thank the Maker for this party. Krem will know what’s going on._

  

***

 

               When the doorbell rang at exactly eight in the evening, Aiden leapt to his feet.

               “Can you get that?” Dorian called out from the kitchen. It was a relief to note that he wasn’t the only one intent on avoiding small talk. Dorian had been in the kitchen for the past hour preparing snack trays and garnishes for something he called his ‘specialty drink tray’.

               “Got it.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and tried to look calm. _It’ll be fine. People don’t change that much in a year. These are your friends. You remember them._ He opened the door and grinned. Bull and Krem. Maker, it was good to see them again.

               “Okay,” Krem said. “Be honest, Bull looks old, doesn’t he?”

               Bull elbowed him good naturedly. “Shut up, Krem-sicle.”

               Aiden threw his arms around them, or rather arm, as much as you could throw your arm around Bull and Krem when they stood next to each other. “It’s so good to see you guys. Come in.”

               Krem looked around the apartment. “I told you that we’d be the first one’s here. You know, being fashionably late is still a thing. They haven’t even put out drinks or snacks.”

               “Nonsense. You’re right on time.” Bull never showed up late to anything. “Come in. Tell me everything. And I mean everything. I literally don’t remember all of last year.”

               “We know,” Krem said. “This might be the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to you. You had a boring year.”

               “Tell him about the shop,” Bull said heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll check on the food.”

               “What happened to the shop?”

               “I own it. Signed the paperwork six months ago.”

               “Really?” Aiden grinned. “That’s great. We’ll have to celebrate.”

               Krem laughed. “We already did. But I wouldn’t say no to more free drinks.”

               The doorbell rang again. “There’s beer in the fridge, help yourself.”

               He opened the door again only to be hit by a spray of water, or at least he hoped it was water. Sera held up a viciously pink spray bottle. “Well, do you remember?”

               “Err..” Aiden wiped his face carefully and looked at it. It was probably water. At least it wasn’t paint.

               “Pffft. Well that’s a waste. I thought it might help you get your memory back. Like- Pow! Memories back. Neat, huh? Anyway, look who I found.” She reached out to her side and dragged into view a pale, blond man clutching a bottle of wine. “Found him lurking in the lobby.”

               “Hi.” The man freed himself from her grip and offered him the wine. “I guess you don’t remember me. Cullen, friend of Dorian’s.”

               “Nice to meet you…again.” Aiden accepted the bottle. “Come in.”

               After that, everything turned into the common delightful chaos of any party with Sera in attendance. Sera dragged Dorian out of the kitchen along with a tray of drinks. Bull forced a bowl of snacks into Cullen’s hands and Krem put on the music. By the time Thom and Alistair arrived, Sera was sitting on Bull’s shoulders singing an impressively vulgar song. Aiden looked around the room. Surrounded by his friends he felt like no time had passed at all. It almost made him forget the whole reason he'd invited everyone. He waited until Krem stepped away to grab another beer and dragged him out onto their tiny balcony at the pretense of getting a bit of fresh air.

               “Bull moved in with you about two years ago, right?”

               “Yeah. Why?” Krem looked around the balcony as if searching for the reason he’d been dragged out into the cold. “You gonna get us a housewarming gift?”

               “I helped you carry and mount that stupid dragon thing.” His back hurt just thinking about it. “Also, I let Bull _borrow_ my waffle maker. I’ve been eating frozen waffles for two years.”

               Krem grinned. “Just testing your memory. So what’s up?”

               “You guys are good friends, right? I mean you hang out and do roommate stuff and all that?”

               “Yeah, sure.” Krem took a sip of his beer. “We hang out. Hasn’t changed.”

               Aiden nodded and glanced toward the balcony doors to make sure no one was paying attention to them. Everyone was otherwise occupied, but he lowered his voice anyway. “Do you have any pictures of Bull?”

               “Err…” Krem rubbed the back of his neck. “What kind of pictures?”

               “I don’t know, just pictures. Of him. Doing things.”

               “Is this a sex thing?”

               “What? No-“ Maker, he sounded like a creep. “This isn’t about Bull. My doctor, she told me I should look at pictures, videos, that kind of thing. I checked my phone backup today and I’ve got a lot of pictures of Dorian. I mean _a lot_ of pictures.”

               Krem raised his eyebrows. “You mean _pictures,_ pictures _?_ ”

               “No. Nothing like that.” Aiden blushed. He hoped it wasn’t obvious in the dim light. “Just normal, everyday stuff. But don’t you think that’s weird?”

               “I don’t know.” Krem shrugged and glanced towards Dorian who was laughing as Sera whispered in his ear. “The two of you are kind of a unit, you know? You’re practically joined at the hip. And you like taking pictures. There’s gossip at the shop sometimes. Never paid much attention to it. What’s on your mind?”

               “When I woke up at the hospital I was sure there was something going on between us. Something romantic. I asked him if we were engaged…”

               “Shit,” Krem snorted and shook his head. “This accident did a real number on you.”

               “Seems like it.”

               Krem nodded and looked out across the parking lot. “I’m not the best person to talk to about Dorian. You don’t remember, but Dorian and I… We kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

               “Why? What happened?”

               “Everyone in Tevinter knows his family. They’re filthy rich. His father’s a big time politician. I said some things.”

               “Like what?”

               “I called him a spoiled brat playing at slumming it in the south.”

               “Krem, that’s-“ 

               He raised a hand to stop him. “You chewed me out for it already. And you were right. Point is, he doesn’t exactly tell me his secrets and the two of us don’t talk about him, you know?”

               Aiden sighed and nodded. Krem was his best friend. If he hadn’t confided in him with anything relevant, then either there’d never been anything to confide or he’d never talked about it with anyone. He considered asking Sera who seemed to get along with Dorian better than anyone, but dismissed that immediately. She’d find it hilarious, probably worthy of sharing with everyone at the next party. Either that or she’d make up a story as a joke.

               “You could talk to Bull. He’s good with this kind of thing.”

               “If I ask Bull, he’ll just say something like – What are you worrying about the past for, big guy? If you’re curious about the package now why don’t you just ask to open it. Except, he’d come up with something funnier and more sexual.”

               “You know,” Krem said with a laugh. “ _Bull_ might have a point there. Why don’t you just talk to Dorian about it?”

               “Because I’m his roommate and friend. I’m not supposed to ogle him like a piece of meat every time he steps out of his room. He’s already made it perfectly clear that nothing ever happened between us. I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Which reminds me, can you fix Dorian’s car? The heating’s broken, again. I’d do it myself, but I don’t think I’m good enough to do it with only one good arm.”

               “Yeah, for sure. Wait- You remember!”

               “What? Oh-“ He grinned. It had been snowing. Which meant it had to be right around the time Dorian had moved in. They’d brought the parts from the shop and worked on car right in the parking lot. “It started smoking, didn’t it?”

               “Yeah. See? You’re getting better already. Maybe this whole thing with Do-“

               Alistair threw open the doors. “What are you guys doing out here? It’s freezing. Get back inside. We’re playing that game where you pick stuff out of a hat and draw things. Loser hosts the next party.”

               “I can’t draw,” Aiden protested. “I’ve got a cast.”

               “What’s that got to do with anything? You’re not a lefty. Besides, you can guess. Come on.”

               Krem shrugged and nudged him back inside where Dorian stood by an enormous sheet of paper looking quite grumpy. He picked up a marker and drew- Well, it was long and sort of rounded at the top. Aiden squinted at it.

               “What the fuck is that?” Thom grumbled. “That’s supposed to be a movie?”

               “A prick,” Sera said without hesitation. She shoved a handful of chips in her mouth.               

               “That’s not a movie,” Thom pointed out.

               “That’s definitely a movie,” Bull corrected.

               Dorian scowled and added several squiggles.

               “A hairy prick,” Sera amended, spraying crumbs everywhere.

               Aiden allowed himself a moment of amusement at Dorian’s outraged expression before coming to his rescue. “Mass Effect.”

               “Thank you!” Dorian tossed the marker at Sera’s head. “That’s a spaceship, thank you very much.”

               She caught it easily. “When’s the last time you saw one?”

               “Funny,” Dorian said looking pleased with himself. “I could ask you the same.”


	5. Winter Palace

               Dorian looked in his closet and chewed his lip. What was he supposed to wear? After a great deal of pestering from Sera and Cullen he’d agreed to be set up with Anders. The supposedly handsome and bookish friend Cullen had mentioned at the hospital. If the picture was recent, and Cullen assured him it was, then at least half the description was accurate. With a couple glasses of wine in him it sounded like a great idea.

               The next morning he’d thrown up, because he’d had too much wine. Definitely not because it would be his first date…ever. At home all of his relationships, if they could even be called that, had to take place in secret. Once he'd come to the south he’d made some feeble efforts at it. It wasn't long before he’d discovered that being from Tevinter didn’t endear him to anyone. It had been enough trouble finding a place to work. Once in a while he found someone interested in the novelty of bedding him. Usually a bed wasn’t involved.

               With resignation he picked out a button down shirt and a pair of black slacks. It was his most sensible, adult attire. It was the kind of thing you wore when you wanted to say – Me? Why I have my life together, thank you for asking. I go on dates at expensive restaurants. He spent a couple extra minutes fussing with his hair and looked at himself in the mirror. _Maker, I look like my father, with better hair._ He grabbed his keys and wallet before he could lose his nerve.

               “Hey.” Aiden looked up from his laptop. “You going to an interview or something?”

               He considered curling up and dying on the spot. “I’ve got a date.”

               “Oh.” Aiden closed his laptop. “It’s just something about that- Never mind. Is this the guy Cullen was talking about? The doctor?”

               “You heard about that?” _Mortifying._

“I think everyone heard about it. From Sera. Not Cullen.”

               “Right.” _No pressure at all. I’ll only have to explain it to everyone when this goes horribly wrong._

               “What are guys doing?”

               “Partaking in what I have been told is the finest Ferelden cuisine this town has to offer. Naturally, I assume at the end of the meal all of us will guess at the contents of the blandest stew known to mankind and the winner shall receive a barbaric reward of some sort. Perhaps their picture on the wall, holding an enormous loaf of hearty multigrain bread.”

                Aiden laughed. It was what he referred to in his mind as his warm laugh, not only because of the way that it made him feel, but because it somehow acknowledged the absurdity of his dramatics without being mean-spirited. “Sounds exciting. Do bring back some bread if you win.”

               “Certainly.” He hesitated a little longer, postponing the moment when he’d have to leave. Of course, he’d much rather stay at home and talk to Aiden. He’d seemed more himself in the past few days, if a little distant. Not that Dorian could blame him. It amazed him how well he was coping with losing a year of his memory. “Truth be told, I’m a touch… nervous.”

               “Dates are weird. But it’s true what they say. Just be yourself. What’s the worst that could happen?”

               “Right.” _If only you knew the number of times the universe answered when I challenged it with those very words._ “Well, I’d better get going. Don’t want to be late.”

               He took the bus for the first time in a while. The car was in the shop and it made for a great excuse not to drive when he felt jittery and distracted. When he arrived, Anders was already waiting outside, flipping through a medical journal.

               “Anders?”

               “Wow,” Anders said as he lowered his magazine to look at him. “Cullen wasn’t kidding. The photos don’t do you justice.”

               He smiled. At least no one ever complained about his looks. Everything else about him was another matter. “Are you saying I’m not photogenic?”

               Anders smacked himself with the journal before rolling it up and shoving it into the enormous pocket of his coat. “I walked right into that, didn’t I? I’m saying Cullen’s photography skills are garbage. It’s good to meet you.”

               They shook hands. It felt weird. Maybe Aiden had a point about his outfit. Then again, wasn’t a date a sort of interview? Dorian appraised Anders. He had a pale grey complexion that matched his image of an emergency room doctor and a ponytail of warm blond hair that didn’t. He was good looking, in a worn out sort of way.

               Inside the waitress seated them a corner table. There were candles on the tables and the whole place was dim. It was, by Ferelden standards, romantic. In Tevinter where secrets and scandals lurked around every corner a true romantic gesture took place in daylight. Lounging together openly at the beach or on a park lawn. For the true hopeless romantic, it might involve a serenade or some such nonsense.

               “Can I start you off with drinks?”

               “Water for me.” He turned back to Dorian. “I don’t drink.”

               He stifled a groan. “I’ll have the same.”

               “Just for the record, I don't mind if you drink. Alcohol doesn’t agree with me as of late. Helps me stay sharper at work when I stay away from it.”

               “No. It’s fine. Water is good.” _Water is good? Smooth. So very smooth._

Anders gave him a pained smile and glanced at the menu. “Cullen tells me you’re from Tevinter. Do you have any family in town?”

               “No.” Dorian pretended he was reading the menu. He might not have much experience, but he was certain his family wasn't appropriate first date conversation. “My family is back in Tevinter. You?”

               “I grew up in a Circle. I’ve never tried to contact my birth parents.”          

               “Oh.” Dorian had heard about Circles. Group homes for children whose parents couldn’t or perhaps wouldn’t raise them. “That must have been… difficult.”

               “The best I can say about it is, sometimes I livened things up by running away. I think I might actually hold a record for the most attempts ever made. Anyway, that was all a very long time ago. What was it like growing up in Tevinter? I’ve always been fascinated by it. I’d love to visit one day.”

               “It’s lovely this time of year. The worst of the summer heat is gone, but it’s still warm. Can’t think of a better place to go if you don’t like the snow or chill.” He hoped Anders wouldn’t notice that he hadn’t delved further into tales of his childhood.

               “And you teach history at Redcliffe University? You must be the youngest professor they’ve ever hired.”

               “Hardly, I teach a single class on early Tevene history.”

               It was a pleasant dinner. They drank their water, politely shared some appetizers, and talked about their jobs and quite a bit about Tevinter. Anders was fascinated with it. Apparently, he’d spent a lot of time studying the influence of Tevene experiments on modern medicine. Dorian decided not to ruin his evening by pointing out the outrageous ethical breaches that had made them possible. They split the bill. Dorian, insisted. After that they stood outside the restaurant for a while Dorian nodding along to some story Andres was finishing. He could already imagine himself telling Aiden all about the lumpy wine sauce covering his pork chops.

               “So…” Anders fiddled with his car keys. “Care for some dessert?”

               “I- No. I think I’ll just head home. I’m not feeling well.” He almost slapped himself the moment the lie left his lips. _Idiot, why would you use that excuse with a doctor?_ “Too much wine sauce perhaps.”

               “Oh right, well.” Anders hesitated for a moment and then leaned in to hug him. “Feel better. Give me a call if you want to go out again. We could catch a movie or something.”

               “I- Sure.” He waited for Anders to turn away before walking in the other direction. He wished he still smoked. It was a habit he’d picked up to aggravate his parents and abandoned upon his arrival to the south. Partly because he could no longer afford it and partly because he was trying to be a healthier... or something. It was hard to remember right now. He set off aimlessly down the street, hoping to clear his head.

               Why didn’t he like Anders? He was handsome, educated, passionate about his work, and came with a recommendation from Cullen. He didn’t hate Tevinter. By all indications he was a nice guy. And that, he realized, was the crux of the problem. Nice or available had never been his type. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocked with dread, expecting a text from Cullen. Asking him about the date? It wasn’t Cullen. It was an unknown number. Or rather a number that wasn’t in his contacts. He recognized it immediately.

               _I’m in town_

               His thumb hesitated over the delete button. There were a lot of good reasons he no longer had this number saved in his phone.

               _I can be there in 20._

He hailed a cab, even though he didn’t have the money for such luxuries. “Winter Palace Hotel.”

               _Room 1201_ His phone buzzed cheerfully.

By some miracle the traffic cooperated, which didn’t give him much time to think. He stared out the window at the blur of store windows, bars, and restaurants until they arrived at the entrance to the Winter Palace Hotel. Its humble entrance concealed a spacious lobby complete with golden walls, a plushy red carpet, and a chandelier with icicle shaped crystals. Even by his standards it was ostentatious. He walked through the lobby confidently, ignoring the knowing looks of the staff. They recognized him here. The Tevinter without any fashionable clothes or luggage. The Tevinter who lived here in the south, because he didn’t stay at the hotel. The Tevinter who only came here at night. Certainly, they had a lot of other less pleasant thoughts about him, none of which he cared to guess.

               He took the elevator the top floor and knocked on the door of the suite to the right.  It opened, allowing him inside.

               “Dorian. It’s good to see you.”   

               Maker, he was beautiful. It took his breath away every time. Skin, tan like a fine whiskey, shaped cheekbones, and that damned enchanting way his lips curled into a smile. _Rilienus_. The very name summoned a frantic rush of memories that scattered through his mind like bats startled by an echo.

               “I didn’t think you’d come.”

               “Really?” Dorian asked archly. “I rather thought that’s why we’re both here.”

               Rilienus helped him out of his jacket, hands lingering on his shoulders a moment, before he pulled it off him and tossed it on a nearby bench. “I’ve missed that glib tongue of yours.”

               “Have you now? If you’re good, maybe I’ll show you what else I can do with it.” He let himself be led into the suite’s bedroom where he sat down on a sofa so white that it might have been covered by the snow that would start falling any day now. He idly wondered how often they had to reupholster the thing. He almost laughed. _Reupholster._ Growing up it would have never occurred to him that such a piece of furniture might need cleaning, replacing, and a lot of completely impractical maintenance.

               “Aggregio?” Rilienus asked. It was merely a gesture of politeness since he didn’t wait for his response before beginning to pour it.

               “You know me too well.”

               “Care for some cheese? Grapes? Maybe a chocolate soufflé? The new chef here is from Val Royeaux. I hear he's excellent.”

               “I already ate.” Dorian sipped the wine and closed his eyes for a moment. He forgot every time how good it was to drink any wine that didn’t come in a box. Not that most wines in a bottle could compare with a good vintage of Aggregio Pavali.

               “How have you been?”

               Once upon a time he would have stayed up until dawn talking with Rilienus. They’d catch up on everything and anything of note that had happened and debate political issues as if they were on the floor of the Magisterium. 

               “I’ve got a proposal for you, Magister. We dispense with the chitchat and move on to something more primal.”

               “Eager as ever, I see.” Rilienus abandoned his glass of wine.

               The sex was good, if predictable. Perhaps that was what he liked about it. With Rilienus he knew the routine and his expected role. He didn’t have to worry about the impatience that sometimes gripped an overeager stranger and left him sore and unsatisfied. After Dorian riled him up with his ‘glib’ tongue, Rilienus pounded him into the mattress with the enthusiasm of someone half his age. _Like a man dying of thirst drilling for a water well._ Dorian allowed himself a moment of pride for coming up with a description terrible enough for a novel by Varric Tethras before Rilienus offered a particularly well aimed thrust and drove all thought from his mind along with an involuntary moan. Rilienus hushed him, reflexively, as if they were still back in Tevinter and Dorian allowed himself to be coaxed into a pillow that would muffle any further announcements of their activity.

               When they were done with it, Dorian lay on the bed with his eyes closed waiting for his breath to slow. He felt the dip of the mattress as Rilienus flopped down next him. He opened his eyes and found himself face to face with a woven bracelet.

               “Ugh.” He groaned and sat up, yanked right out of the blissful haze of pleasure.  

               “What?” Rilienus mumbled, rolling over to look at him.

               “You couldn’t have taken that off?”

               “I never take it off.” Rilienus ran his hand over the intricate weave. “I made a promise.”

               Dorian scowled and walked over to the table to pour himself another glass of wine. “I must be getting rusty on the traditions. How does the line go? Ah yes, I remember now. Let this band serve as a marker to all that world of my solemn vow that I shall never betray our bond… by taking it off when I fuck a man on my business trips.”

               Rilienus sighed. “Dorian, come on. We had a good time. Why must you always complicate things?”

               “You’re right. I apologize. There’s nothing complicated about what you’re doing.”

               “There isn’t.”

               Dorian abandoned the wine and reached for the pack of cigarettes. “Tell me then, how did the consummation of your marriage go?”

               “She’s pregnant.”

               “Is it yours?”

               Rilienus flinched. “Just because you don’t agree with my choices, doesn’t mean you can-”

               He cut him off with a barking laugh. “Disagree with them? I don’t understand them.”

               “And I don’t understand yours. My family is overjoyed. I’ve got a good career, the respect of my peers. There’s no luxury that I can’t afford. Why do you insist on denying yourself an easy life?”

               “Because,” Dorian said through gritted teeth. “I’ve no intention of keeping a smile plastered to my face as I die screaming on the inside.”

               “Don’t be so dramatic,” Rilienus snapped. “You’re just too proud to admit that the south hasn’t made you happy.”

               “And what do you know about my happiness?” He lit the cigarette and inhaled. The motions of it felt so right, but it wasn’t the same.

               “I see the clothes you wear. I know where you work. This isn’t you, Dorian. You like fine wines and silk sheets. What has the south given you that’s so precious?”

               “I don’t live a lie.”

               “Your father would forgive you-”

               “Forgive _me?_ ” Dorian put the cigarette out by crushing it into the table. He marched over to the chair where he’d placed his clothes and started getting dressed. He’d gotten good with that over the years. Nothing felt worse than having to search for scattered clothes in the dark or occasional dim light of morning.

               “Oh, sure. Fine. Leave. It’s how you solve everything.”

               He jammed his feet into his still laced up shoes as he buttoned his shirt.

               “I worry about you. In the south all by yourself." Rilienus got out of the bed. "You know how people treat us here.” 

               Dorian evaded his attempt at an embrace by setting off down the hallway where he picked up his jacket and snapped it violently against his leg, as if dust had settled on it in the brief time he hadn’t been wearing it. He reached for the door but a gentle hand on his forearm stopped him. He let himself be tugged around.

               “Wait.” Rilienus took his hand and cradled it in his own before releasing it. “Here.”

               He stared down at the bills in the palm of his hand with disbelief. “Is this a joke?”

               “It’s late. Please, take a cab.”

               “I’m not a whore!”

               “Vishante kaffas!” Rilienus threw his hands in the air. “I know you don’t have the money. Why must you be so proud?”

               He threw them back at him. The bills didn’t meet their mark and simply drifted to the floor pathetically. “Save it for someone else. This is the last time you’ll see me.”

               Rilienus sneered. “And you say I’m the one who lives a lie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos dearies!


	6. A Call

               The soft but persistent rattle of metal vibrating against glass woke him. Aiden struggled to piece together the meaning of the sound. He squinted at his alarm clock. Two o’clock in the morning. A beep. A flash of light. His phone. Someone had to be dead. No one called at this hour unless someone was dead. He fumbled for his phone knocking the glass off the nightstand. It hit the carpet with a dull thud, but didn’t shatter.

               _Dorian_.

               When he hadn’t come back from his date by midnight he’d gone to bed. He hadn’t wanted to examine the uncomfortable feeling at the center of his chest. He dialed back. _Ring_. Guilt seized him. _Ring_. What if something had gone terribly wrong? _Ring_. What if he’d been sitting there feeling jealous when Dorian had needed help?

               “Aiden?”

               “Dorian?” He jolted up in bed, realizing too late he wasn’t the least bit ready to face whatever emergency might be awaiting him.

               “Kaffas. I woke you up, didn’t I? I’m sorry-”

               “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

               “I’m fine. I didn’t mean to wake you. I forgot the buses aren’t running at this hour and- It’s nothing. Go back to sleep.”

               Aiden flopped back in the bed and wiped the sweat from his face. “Where are you?”

               “Nowhere. The Winter Palace Hotel. Don’t worry about it. I’ll just-”

               “I’m on my way.” He hung up before Dorian could protest further. Everyone knew about The Winter Palace Hotel. It was the fanciest hotel in town. Only the wealthiest foreigners stayed there. A couple of years ago there’d been a gruesome murder there. Some kind of spat between lovers. It wasn’t the kind of place you took someone on a first date, even if you could afford it.

               He stumbled into the bathroom where he flicked on the lights and blinked for a few seconds. When he could see again he splashed his face with cold water and looked at himself. There was no way to make himself look presentable in a short amount of time. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and when that didn’t help, he put on socks and shoes. He grabbed his new jacket and jogged to the car. On send thought, wearing pajama pants might not have been the best idea considering the freezing wind.

               The streets were empty, just an endless stretch of dark asphalt. He ran a couple pointless red lights. Something had to be wrong. You didn’t go on a normal first date and end up stranded in the middle of the night by the Winter Palace Hotel. He fiddled with the radio. Chants of the Chantry blared through the speakers. He turned it off.  

               He could see Dorian as soon as he made a turn into the street, even though he was all the way at the other end of the block. He had his hands jammed in the pockets of his jacket and every once in a while he shifted from foot to foot. He’d barely pulled up and unlocked the doors before Dorian slipped inside rubbing his hands together.

               Aiden cranked the heater all the way up. “You okay?”

               “Never bett-” Dorian looked at him. “Are you wearing pajamas?”

               “Yeah- I didn’t want you to wait long.” He tried not to sound defensive.

               “Kaffas. I’m sorry. I should’ve just waited until-“

               “Nah.” He waved away the apology. “I’m glad you called. You’d freeze waiting until the buses start running again.”

               He waited for a moment, expecting that Dorian might say something to explain all this, but when he didn’t he started the drive back home. Something was clearly wrong. He could tell by Dorian’s carefully neutral expression and the stiffness of his posture. He always looked like that when he came home after a really bad day at work. The car filled with the faint smell of cigarettes.

               “He’s a doctor and he smokes?

               Dorian turned away to look out the window, but Aiden caught his cringe in the reflection. “I wasn’t with the doctor.”

               “Oh.”

               “Please, don’t tell Cullen about this.”

               “Why would I tell Cullen about this?”

               “I don’t know.”

               Aiden made a vague noise of acknowledgement. He wished he knew the right thing to say. A couple hours ago, a small part of him had been hoping that Dorian’s date would be a disaster. Now he’d give anything to hear Dorian enthuse about it. He had the kind of infectious enthusiasm that Aiden imagined would one day make him a favorite of history students everywhere. He’d take a hundred nights of Dorian talking about amazing dates over this.

               Dorian was… unhappy. The kind of raw and gaping unhappy that pulled at him as if it were a vortex threating to suck him into another dimension. That he tried to hide it only made it all the more palpable.

               All the things that came to mind that might cheer someone up seemed inadequate. When they’d reached the apartment he’d come no closer to finding a solution. The silence around them grew until it filled the entire stairwell. Their footsteps echoed through the stairwell although they moved slowly so as not to wake the neighbors. By the lack of light in any of the windows he guessed that they were the only ones awake in the building.

               Inside, he kicked off his shoes and watched Dorian as he carefully unlaced his then hung his jacket on the coatrack. His shirt was strangely askew and it took Aiden a moment to realize that he’d skipped over a hole when buttoning it. Dorian caught him staring and looked down at himself with resignation, as if he knew what he would find.

               “I need a shower.”

               “Sure.”

               He’d never fall back asleep now. Aiden went into the living room and opened up the cabinet under the television. They had a whole shelf of documentary films. He didn’t remember ever watching them. _Ultimate savings. I get to watch these for the first time, twice._ Still, three o’clock in the morning, wasn’t the time for a four-hour feature on ancient temples. He pulled out the basket on the side stuffed with films in Tevene.  A lot of them looked like they’d been pulled out of a bargain bin. _Interview with a Necromancer, Sleepless in Minrathous, Dumat’s Curse, Mists over Seheron,_ and _The Magisters._ He hesitated over the last title. It was the show from his dream. He dismissed it as an option. This was not the time to think about that.

_Interview with a Necromancer it is._

               He lowered the volume before hitting play so as not to disturb the neighbors and clicked through the menu to turn on the subtitles. By the time Dorian emerged from the shower the necromancer in question had finished explaining how he’d raised a corpse from the dead at the Necropolis and then run away with it.

               “You know, this was quite scandalous in Tevinter. I was forbidden to see it.” Dorian dried his hair violently with a towel. The light pouring out of the bathroom framed him in the doorway. “Naturally I snuck out the first chance I got. I must have watched it at least four times.”

               “How rebellious of you,” Aiden said with a small smile.

               “It’s a ridiculous movie.”

               "Why?”

               “They’re lovers.”

               Aiden turned back to the screen where the necromancer showed the corpse around a stately mansion. By the time he’d turned around to respond, Dorian had disappeared into his room. He sighed and spread out on the couch. If you didn’t think about the part where one of them was a reanimated corpse with no memories, it was all very romantic.

 

***

 

               By the time he woke up the next morning, Dorian had left for work. Aiden poured himself a cup of coffee and toasted a slice of bread for breakfast even though it was well past noon. He didn’t have any plans for the day. Krem had told him to take the rest of the week off and his therapist was gone for a long weekend. All of which meant that he had no idea what to do with himself.

               He walked around the apartment munching on his toast. If he sprinkled crumbs all over the place it would give him something to do later.

               The phone rang.

               Aiden startled and dropped his toast. The landline never rang. He’d forgotten that he had one and he was certain that had nothing to do with his recent memory loss. It had to be a telemarketer. He picked up.

               “Hello?”

               “Good afternoon. May I speak with Dorian Pavus.”

               He didn’t recognize the voice. Which meant that either he’d never met whoever was calling or that he was about to have an awkward conversation. “He’s not home at the moment. Can I take a message?”

               “Who is this?”

               “Aiden? I’m his roommate.”

               “Roommate.” The pause on the other end of the line stretched so long that he thought the call had gotten disconnected. “This is Halward Pavus. I’m Dorian’s father.”

               “Oh.” Apparently the two of them didn’t know each other. “Well, I’ll be sure to tell him that you called.”

               “Actually, perhaps you could help me. Dorian and I haven’t seen each other in some time. I’d like to surprise him with dinner at Emprise D’Lion. It’s his favorite restaurant. I intended to call and ask him to meet me nearby, but this would be better. Do you think you could help me?”

               Aiden grinned. He loved throwing surprise parties and this was almost the same thing. “Sure.”

               “Shall we say tonight? Around seven? You’re welcome to join of course.”

               “Sure. See you at seven.”

               He allowed himself a congratulatory whoop as he retrieved his toast from the floor. Fancy food and a family reunion. This would be the perfect way to cheer Dorian up.


End file.
